


A Room To Ourselves

by Gemenied



Series: The Kabul-series [1]
Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Drama, F/M, Family, Gen, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemenied/pseuds/Gemenied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Grace and Boyd's first Christmas together and they are spending it with Grace's family. According to Boyd, who's playing the part of "Mum's new boyfriend" it's a family disaster waiting to happen. And that's before they are dropping the proverbial bombshell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither the characters, nor the show, nor even the basic idea - it's a part of the "Kabul"-series.
> 
> A/N: It's my very belated Christmas-story, but I figure it still counts, because it's set at Christmas (but before the airing of "The Royle Family" - which Boyd and Grace miss, for obvious reasons) and I wrote it over Christmas. Many, many thanks go to my wonderful beta CatS81.
> 
> Enjoy!

Boyd eyes the cars parking in front of the house and those passing by as if to gauge if one of them will get too close to his own, very sleek, wholly impractical roadster. She sees it and he can even feel her inward eyeroll. But she remains calm and patient and gives him a small indulgent smile.

She's been like that all morning. Serene, smiling. Gorgeous, especially just when dawn began to crack into the room, giving him a chance to watch her sleeping face in the beginning light. The novelty of sight and emotion hasn't worn off yet, so Boyd uncharacteristically indulged and just watched her for a while.

Grace, however, is a light sleeper and suddenly watching became doing and, when he thinks of it, not even the presents under the small tree in the lounge could compare to the breathless, indulgent morning tumble they had had.

It was a brilliant morning, but as he now eyes the house they stand in front of, he can almost see things crashing around him.

"Boyd...." She sounds a little exasperated underneath her fond tone. "It's just Christmas lunch."

"Family disaster waiting to happen."

She turns towards him fully, the eyeroll very clear. "Oh, don't be such a Scrooge! It's going to be alright."

"Yeah." He doesn't sound convinced as he closes the distance and slips his arm around her waist. They both have a hand each full with bags of presents but that would never keep him from kissing her in the middle of the street.

It won't raise his sympathy ranking among the occupants of the house, quite the contrary actually. And they haven't even dropped the bombshell.

Giving her a sardonic smile, Boyd shrugs. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

Grace chuckles, then stretches to kiss him. "Done with your pop psychology, then?"

Boyd kisses first, smiles later. "You always say I should listen to your scientific knowledge."

"Hmm."

They both snort a little indelicately before he kisses her again. Boyd likes kissing Grace, likes doing a whole lot of things to and with Grace, but he isn't sure that this particular....

"Relax, it's just my kids, their families and a turkey."

"And I'm mother's new boyfriend who everybody hates." Though said in jest, Boyd thinks he's a lot closer to the truth than Grace would admit. Her son might be alright, the few times they've spent time together were cordial and friendly. Her daughters....

"They'll come around."

"Motherly intuition? Or psychological prophecy?"

Grace sighs. "Don't make it any harder on yourself than it is," she says quietly, leaning against him again and instinctively he tightens his hold on her. "I know Gina can be...difficult at times." He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head.

"Alright, she can be an impolite pain in the arse without any manners. Reminds me of you at times, you know. And no, she didn't get that from me."

"She's your daughter, just like Margaret is."

"Maddie," Grace automatically corrects.

Boyd shrugs. "Both your daughters, both mothers to your grandchildren.... You don't want to fight with them over the boyfriend at Christmas."

"You like calling yourself my boyfriend, Boyd? Prefer toyboy even?"

"Well, I was this morning, when the supposedly highly respectable Dr. Grace Foley seduced me before I was even fully awake."

She laughs. "Liar."

"You plan on staying out there and keeping the neighbours’ eyes on you all day, Mum? Or did you actually plan to come inside?"  
Christopher Foley leans against the frame of the front door, giving them both a cocky grin.

"Don't sass with me, young man. I'm still your mother."

The young man laughs, giving Boyd a conspiratorial wink. It loosens the nervousness he feels in his gut just a little, but seeing Gina behind her brother with a somewhat stony expression, he knows it won't be a completely relaxed meal, not even without the news they have to share.

* * *

Inside the house is just like Boyd imagines previous Christmas feasts having been in the Foley-household: warm, chaotic and boisterous. There are childish screams mixed with laughter and a few exasperated adult reprimands that are soundly ignored. It's a sea of happy pandemonium, overwhelming the senses.

He needs to take a step back, stay in the hall, slowly hanging up their coats while the kids pretty much bowl over their grandmother in the lounge.

"Okay?" comes the quiet voice of Maddie, Grace's younger daughter, from the other end of the hall.

Boyd smiles, "Yeah."

"Good," she says lightly, closes the distance and pecks him on the cheek. "Happy Christmas."

Looking at her for a moment, he searches her face for a hint of insincerity but can't find any. "Happy Christmas to you, too. And to the little one," he replies, pointing at the young woman's belly that is beginning to ever so slightly extend.

Maddie laughs. "I'll send baby and his terror of a sister your way next year."

"His?"

"Maybe."

He returns her smile, but can't help think of what they have to tell them, what it will do to Maddie and her little girl...and the baby not yet born.

Still, Boyd follows the young woman into the lounge and is immediately ambushed by a girl of about three. Blond curls, blue eyes, precocious and rambunctious, and if there's one thing Boyd definitely can't do, it is to say 'no' to her.

Under the smirking observance of the other adults, he gently pries the little girl, who has wrapped herself around his leg, away and swings her up into his arms. "Hello, Gracie."

In greeting he receives a very slobbery and very enthusiastic kiss. "Santa give you pressie for me, Boyd?" Suddenly silent the little girl regards him, all big blue eyes, blond curls and expectation. He breaks, of course he does.

"Of course he did, Gracie."

The reply leads to her cousin attacking him too, so that he struggles to keep upright. Why the kids like him so much he isn't sure, especially in the face of their parents' guarded reaction, but above the heads he can see Grace, the older one, give him a wide, happy smile, and that's enough.

Maybe this family gathering isn't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

She likes what she sees, leaning back in the sofa, in the messy, loud lounge that's filled to the brim with Christmas cheer and the people she loves most in the world. Except for a handful of people, three of whom she'll see the next day, it is actually true.

The kids are basically hanging onto and off Boyd, making her wish for a camera.

Grace leans back into the sofa, almost lies back and she can see Boyd smirk at that. Not very graceful, but she gives him a shrug and just enjoys it. It doesn't take long before he is right beside her, his thigh tightly pressed against hers in the confines of the furniture.

"We look like the proverbial oldies not able to keep up with the pace," he grumbles.

"Looks can be deceiving," she whispers back lowly, her eyes intense on him.

"I bloody well hope so." He's still not convinced but from the way his voice drops, Grace knows that he's warming to the idea.

"You can always prove it, you know."

"How? By snogging their mother on the sofa, on Christmas Day, with everybody watching?"

"You make it sound like such a chore. Thank you."

This time it's Boyd who rolls his eyes. "Are you spoiling for something, Dr. Foley?"

"I thought that was obvious, Boyd."

"Subtle. Very subtle."

"Oh, for God's sake, Boyd, will you just kiss her?" Gina's voice suddenly sounds above them, completely exasperated.

Looking up, half incredulous and half-amused, Boyd gives her a speculative grin, "Are you ordering me to kiss your mother?"

"Just to spare us having to watch the build up any longer!"

"Which makes it just so much more romantic," Grace drawls, rolling her eyes.

"Not romantic, nauseating!"

Grace knows Boyd, knows him well. Knows that he will milk this moment for all it is worth. There's exasperation in her daughter's tone but little of the previous annoyance. Maybe she's finally come around to acceptance, or at least she’s called a truce for the holidays, but it's a chance they can't and won't let go unused.

Therefore it's no surprise that Boyd has leaned over, which doesn't make their position any more innocent, quite the contrary, in fact. She can feel his weight against her, feels his warmth, his hand cupping her cheek.

"I think your children expect a show here...."

He leaves the sentence unfinished, doesn't need to. They've always been able to hold entire conversations with half-sentences and pointed gestures, and neither of them ever backs down from a challenge.

She wants to answer, push the tension in the room that little bit higher, but it's no longer important because there's his weight against her, the feel of his palm against her cheek, his scent in her nose and the look in his eyes. Grace breaks first, closing the distance, her lips touching his softly, slowly, breathtaking in its simplicity.

As they part Grace can almost hear the sigh, doesn't realise it's her to utter it.

"Gramma?!"

They eye the little girl slowly, deliberately, but little Gracie doesn't even notice what she's interrupting.

"Yes, Grace?" Grace, the older, is the only one using the name and that is what makes the girl squirm.

"Can we open the pressies you and Boyd brought us from Santa?" Gina's son Max jumps in for his younger cousin.

"Will you leave us alone, if you can?"

Max nods eagerly, Gracie however gives them a long look.

The exchange develops like high noon at its best, leaving the spectators waiting with bated breath. Who could say, whom of the two, so very alike, will win the contest?

In the end, it's Grace the younger who breaks first, kneeling next to the sofa and hugging her grandmother.

The two of them giggle quietly while around them there are various sounds of exasperation.

"Good God, Boyd, how will you manage with those two?" Christopher snorts.

"Boyd?" Gina interrupts, "how about how will we deal?"

Twin baleful glares are directed at the room in general. "I don't have a problem with putting you over my knee at your age, Gina. A little more respect, if you please."

Inwardly groaning, Boyd falls back against the sofa, eyeing the situation. Much as he loves Grace and likes her lively family, situations like this.... Good God, that is exactly what they say about Christmas with the family, don't they?

Her weight against his arm is comforting as Grace settles back next to him again, as the children rush towards the tree to find their present amidst delighted shrieks. "Relax," she whispers. "It's alright. All good."

Her fingers slip between his, squeezing slightly in reassurance. "You are doing wonderfully. We are doing wonderfully."

Boyd gives her a look, then a tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth by the way of a smile. "So far...."

"Don't be so negative. It's Christmas."

"And we still have to drop the bombshell," he mutters quietly, squeezing her fingers in return.

For a short moment, the cheer in Grace's eyes dims. She grimaces, but quickly pulls her control back. "Later," she whispers.

He gives her a long look, she only shrugs sheepishly in reply. "Later," she repeats.

Shaking his head, Boyd leans over and kisses her.

* * *

There is food on the table and food on the table, Boyd thinks as he eyes the table in front of him. He's been to Christmas feasts before, but this....

"Who's going to eat all this?" he asks worriedly.

Christopher just raises his eyebrows. "It's Christmas and we're having dinner now." Eyeing the clock by the mantle he amends, "Well, we’ll start now and eat until after dinner, I think."

Boyd feels like he has been doing this numerous times before, but what else is he supposed to do? He shakes his head. "When? New Year's dinner?"

The younger man laughs. "Possible, but I can think of worse things."

"You can't fault his logic," Grace declares lightly next to him.

"No. Obviously not," Boyd replies, keeping the sarcasm to a minimum.

"So, sit down before everything is gone."

He considers it safer just to follow his orders instead of starting another round of a discussion he can't possibly win. Next to him, Grace settles, quickly grasping the cracker in front of her and holding it out to him.

"I have to, do I?" Boyd asks.

He doesn't receive an answer and considering how the boisterous and numerous family descends on the table and would no doubt team up against him, he decides to simply accept his fate.

* * *

"This tastes wonderful, Rosa," Boyd announces some time later. "You did a fantastic job with this feast."

Murmurs of agreement come from around the table, making the young woman blush. "Thanks, I'm glad I could fill your shoes with this, Grace," she addresses her mother-in-law. "Even if I did call with emergencies all the time."

"You did wonderfully, love," Grace declares. "And I told you to call me if you needed help. The first time you do this is always daunting. I was scared out of my wits the first time I did it for the family."

"And you’ve trained your successor early it seems, huh?" Tom, Gina's husband, states. "Smart move."

Grace chuckles and shrugs. "It was necessary this year and I'm very glad Rosa jumped in and helped me out. I wouldn't have had the chance to put together Christmas dinner this time."

Maddie and Christopher exchange pregnant glances, then eye Boyd in unison.

"Found something more interesting to do, Mum?" Maddie teases, but feels her expression slowly slip when she sees her mother's features turn serious. Normally, this would mean just another round of sound teasing, but reading her mother's expression correctly....

And Boyd's as well....

She looks at her brother, finds him frowning worriedly as well, as both Boyd and Grace lay down their utensils and take each other's hands, seemingly in support.

"Well...." Grace starts.

"There's something we should tell you," Boyd continues. "The reason why Grace did not have your Christmas Day gathering at her house." He can feel his heart rate speed up, knows Grace experiences the same anxiety that he does. It is the worst possible moment to announce their news but a better one won't come, not with time running out on them like it is now.

"Is something wrong?" Gina leans forward, her voice laced with worry.

"You sold up and are riding off into the sunset together, are you? Australia, or something?" Maddie's husband tries to inject some levity.

"No. Neither," Grace grinds out, her fingers squeezing Boyd's hand even tighter. She gives him a short look and quite possibly for the first time in their long acquaintance, he can discern real fear. Her fingers are clammy in his and there are nervous spots on her cheeks.

"What is it, then?" Rosa asks.

"The house is not sold, but all but packed up. We are leaving in two weeks, for a six-months stint in Kabul."


	2. Chapter 2

The silence is oppressive. Nobody eats and while the food slowly cools unheeded, tempers are beginning to boil in silence. She doesn't need to be a psychologist or a betting person to know who will launch the tirade but Grace keeps looking at her eldest to wait for the inevitable.

Next to her she can feel Boyd tense, feels his fingers cramping around her hand under the table. He hates situations like this and in this particular moment she agrees wholeheartedly. It's not exactly Christmas cheer they've spread just now and, apart from anything else, Grace understands the shock and the anger her family feels. Maybe the timing has been bad as well but their departure is only two weeks away, so when should they have spoken if not now?

Surprisingly, it's Maddie who breaks the stalemate. "Since when have you known this?" she asks quietly.

"Six weeks." Boyd's reply is equally as quiet, and for some time there is silence again.

Grace doesn't need to look at Boyd to know how difficult it is for him to remain calm. Under the table his fingers are fidgeting, betraying his unease, so she turns her hand, interlaces their fingers and squeezes gently.

"When...?" Christopher's quiet start is interrupted by Gina noisily pushing her chair back.

It's the expected explosion, an angry screech directed at Grace, though Gina's gaze is furiously set on Boyd. "God, Mum, are you really that desperate for a shag with that...that...man...that you accept getting yourself killed for it? Is it really so bad?" She takes a deep breath but her following words aren't any more polite. "God, I thought you had more sense than that!"

This is the one thing she shouldn't do and Gina knows it the moment the words have left her mouth, but they can't be taken back and frankly she doesn't care to do so.

Boyd remains seated but it's clearly visible just how much effort it costs him not to fly across the table and throttle the younger woman. "You can accuse me of many things," he presses out. "You can call me any name under the sun, Gina, but I will not stand for you disrespecting your mother like this!"

"How gallant of you!" Gina sneers. "Couldn't you think of that first? Couldn't think of getting lost? And staying lost on your grand world tour?"

"Georgina." The full name has been used very, very rarely and it has never been a good sign. The full name said in this tone of voice is as good as a death warrant and nobody in the room, not even the youngest, is in any doubt about it.

Standing, almost shaking with rage, Gina stares at her mother, knows she can't win this contest, knows one more word will turn this moment literally bloody. So she uses the only option left to her, takes a deep and loud breath, turns on her heel and stalks off.

The back door slamming back against the frame echoes through the house and breaks the silence.

"She'll make sure to tidy and clean the hallway later," Grace comments calmly, though none of her remaining family is in doubt about her own state of mind. Next to her, Boyd is feeling it most keenly, her fingers clamping around his like a vice. It's painful, and surprising, just how much strength this small woman can develop if need be. And she's angry. A memory springs to his mind, of words in his office, four words, each thrown out with more vitriol than the previous, one of them a lie as he now knows.

His thumb draws small soothing circles on the back of her hand, keeps them in time with his deliberately calm breathing. It's a mask, of course, but it works, calms her down.

It takes a while, minutes, before anybody says anything. Little Grace is the first. "The food's getting cold."

The adults look at her, still in a daze.

Finally, Thomas, Gina's husband, gets up and quietly excuses himself to go after his wife. Grace looks after him, sighing deeply. It isn't the first flare of temper he's encountered and run interference for and she feels sorry for him.

"Tom...." she calls after him and the young man gives her a small smile to go with the shake of his head.

Grace sighs as she detangles herself from Boyd's hand to hide her face in her palms. "That...went well," she mumbles.

"Gramma?" Suddenly, young Max is next to her. "Are you very mad at Mummy?" he asks worriedly. His grandmother pulls the small boy into her arms and hugs him tightly. "Not so very mad, Maxi," she whispers. She wants to say, needs to say more, but neither is little Max the addressee for those words, nor is this the right time.

"I am sorry," Boyd says into the silence, looking at both Christopher and Maddie and at their respective spouses. "I know there was never a good time to tell you this but this moment was particularly bad, I guess."

To his surprise, Maddie shrugs and gives him a small snort. "You know, if I went about it like Gina, I'd blame you blindly. But that would be wrong, I believe." Turning to her mother, she shakes her head. "Gina's just like you, you know, Mum? Why didn't you tell us? You had six weeks!"

"Because it's something we need to do."

"We're not even talking about the fact that you are going, Mum," Christopher joins in. "That's a thing in and of itself, even if you say it's none of our business. I beg to differ...but...." The way he brushes his palm over his face looks eerily familiar to Boyd, showing how agitated the young man is. "But not telling us...."

"You are right, Chris, it's our decision, something we have to do."

"Professionally, or for you as a couple?"

There is a small frisson of a smile that comes almost simultaneously over both Grace's and Boyd's faces.

"I told your mother I wouldn't go if she believed that we have a future together," he says sincerely. "I meant that."

"And?" Christopher's wife prods, a small grin beginning to form on her face as well.

"They’re making her go, so I will."

"And offered silly money too, I assume." Sam, Maddie's husband, grins.

"Silly is an understatement," Grace replies. "But...."

"You think you need to do this."

"Yes." Boyd's answer is short and succinct.

The family doesn't look happy, there's no denying it. Even the children, young as they are, look apprehensive.

"Look," Boyd continues. "It sounds a lot worse than it is."

"I won't actually be leaving the compound while I'm there. The most dangerous times will be getting from the airport into the camp and on return getting back to the airport." Grace smiles, even more so when she can see her children relax. They aren't entirely convinced, she knows. Neither is she, but that's neither here nor there.

"She's right," Boyd says. "Grace will spend all her time in the camp, protected by hundreds of soldiers. And," he smirks slightly. "I'll protect her from...well, I'll make sure _they_ don't come too close."  
Grace turns and gives him a droll look while raising her eyebrows. "Chain me to that bungalow, why don't you."

His smirk widens, takes on an entirely new dimension. Not appropriate at all in front of a couple of 'children' who just heard that you'll take your lover, their mother, on a six-month stint to one of the most dangerous places on the planet.

"Oh, good God, why don't you two get a room?" Maddie appropriately exclaims.

"Because your mother said that we'll stick it out until the Queen's speech and then, and only if I behave well, I might get lucky.”

"Boyd!" It's a twin exclamation, both from Grace and Maddie, while Christopher hides his face in his hands, shaking his head in the process. The children are staring at him wide-eyed. They may not understand exactly what he implies but the reactions are impossible to misread, even if you are only five years old.

Unerringly, little Max asks, "Is Boyd naughty, Gramma?" and little Gracie, barely three, stares at him with an adoring grin.

"I'll put you on a leash next time!"

He grins, but quickly controls his expression. "Sorry," he says, though he neither sounds nor actually is sorry at all.

The commotion slowly subsiding, everybody returns to their plates and though Rosa is full of apologies about the food being cold, nobody minds. It's an eerily familiar a situation for Grace and her family, and for Boyd...well, the last Christmasses were generally spent with less joviality, less chaos and a lot less affection.

It's a voracious silence, almost peaceful, until Tom is suddenly beside the table again, looking a little exhausted and also a little frustrated. The mood sinks immediately.

"She still mad?" Christopher asks, noticing the tension in his mother's frame and, to his surprise, in Boyd's posture.

"Yeah," Tom replies, shaking his head. "I told her she needed to get herself sorted before she comes back in.... She's such a piece of work at times." As he sits down, he pulls his son into his arms.

"And we love her, don't we, son?"

Max nods eagerly.

"She wants to talk to you Boyd, outside."

The man in question swallows, "Fewer things to throw?"

Tom grins. "You're safe, as far as I can see."

"Boyd," Grace sounds worried, looks it even, and that makes him smile. Leaning over he kisses her temple, his fingers instantly finding the back of her neck, high in her hair, where even the wispiest touch of his fingertips makes her shiver.

"I'll be back."

In his wake, the family exchanges glances, all of them discarding their utensils.

* * *

  
It's drizzly outside, not cold, but not pleasant.

It takes a moment before Boyd spots Gina and when he does, he can't help but shake his head. She looks so much like Grace in that moment, despite the fact that she seemingly took after her father in general physical appearance. The posture, the expression, the tension radiating off underneath the professionally learned veneer of calm – he has to admire that; in Gina's shoes he'd probably pace and throw things.

"Your husband said you want to talk to me," he opens as calmly as he can, knowing that despite Grace's words, despite the somewhat calmer reaction of her siblings, Gina's opinion does matter, will matter in the future if he doesn't want a family war on his account. Considering how much Grace loves her children and how he...well, this is important.

"I actually have only one question," Gina answers just as quietly. "How did this happen?"

As Boyd closes the distance, she moves a bit to the side to offer him space against the wall underneath the little awning so they both stay relatively dry. It's a peace offering of some sort, one Boyd isn't going to pass up.

"Because they can count," he says with a shrug.

"I don't understand."

"I rejected the offer three times. Gave them a valid reason, too. I guess they heard enough rumours...."

"You didn't want to go?"

"The job's attractive," he admits. "But it would mean leaving Grace and I would have had to go within a week. So, I said no the first time, before Grace and I...." He lets the sentence trail, certainly not needing to remind his staunchest 'non-fan'.

"And, then?” The look on the young woman's face is no longer so forbidding. He can see worry there, knows she won't be happy about this until they are safely back on British soil in mid-July. It's understandable and he feels like reaching out and assuring her, surprises them both by placing his hand on Gina's shoulder.

"Then your mother comes home one evening, with the job offer in hand...."

"Offer?"

"Forcefully made...." Boyd shrugs. "Sometimes I think the Home Office is worse than the Met."

"They never liked the idea of Mum leaving their service to do the charity thing."

"They've basically only 'loaned' her out, you know."

"Doesn't surprise me. And she is an expert on trauma and post trauma stress....”

"I know...."

They stand in silence, both of their thoughts on the woman inside the dining room.

"I'll take care of her, I promise."

"My Dad made me promise I would watch out for Mum when he'd gone."

The words hang in the air, almost corporeal in the depth of understanding they provide.

"I love her."

They both know it's not a line Boyd says often. Gina gives him a long look from the side, watching him, trying to discern something only she seems to be aware of. "I hope you've told her that by now."

He chuckles quietly. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't.... I shocked her, I think.”

"By saying 'I love you'? Can't say I'm surprised."

"I was...." Grace leans against the frame of the back door, giving them both an affectionate smile. "Okay?" she asks after a while.

Gina nods. "Not happy, but okay. He says he'll protect you. I told him I’ll kill him myself if he doesn't." They all hear the blatant warning but wisely don't comment on it. "And now I'm going inside to grab the meagre leftovers those leeches have left."

She calmly wanders across the backyard, kisses her mother on the cheek and slips inside.

"I think I need to watch out for that one," Boyd comments drolly once Gina has disappeared inside. As Grace settles against him he can hear her murmuring, "Probably wise."

"They love you very much. All of them."

Nuzzling against him, Grace draws soothing circles across his back. "I love them, too."

They stand like this for a while, lost in thought. "It's good being with family today," he says quietly after a while, his voice choked. Being here today reminds him of what he's lost, years before it was officially gone. Reminds him of what he has not done, not done right. If Luke could have been here today, he would have....

Grace's embrace tightens. "That's why we are here, you and I," she says quietly, knowing that there doesn't need to be anything else.

With a sigh, he pulls her tighter against him, can feel that she's already shivering in the drizzle but for the moment, this is as good as it can possibly get - even if he can't shake the feeling that there are curious eyes trained on them from inside the kitchen.

* * *

It's pitch dark and raining in sheets by the time they close the front door behind them and exhaustedly lean back against the wood.

"Bloody hell, is it like that every year?"

Against him, Grace laughs lightly, though he can hear the exhaustion in her voice. "Every time. You can be glad we didn't have to wait until they were tired enough to leave."

Boyd groans. "I doubt I can endure that again."

She stiffens and he knows she's biting back a quick reply. "Good thing that you've already got Rosa and Christopher to do it at their house. That way we can always pretend to be old farts who can't take the pace."

"Funny, Boyd. Very funny."

"Not funny," he replies glibly, pulling her against him. "Thank you for today, Grace," he says quietly, with as much sincerity as he can muster. He needs her to know how much this day has meant to him, how much of a balm the inclusion and at least partial acceptance into her family has been for his heart.

She must know it, of course she does, for Grace only smiles at him before pulling his head down for a kiss. "No need to thank me, Peter. It's you and I now, to everybody who asks, and even those who don't."

"Even Gina?" he grins minutely.

"Even Gina," Grace confirms.

She pulls him towards the staircase, heedless of the fact that they are both still in their coats and that several bags are littering the floor of the hallway. Her smile is promising and no little amused, as her speed doesn't leave any doubt about her ultimate destination.

It's Boyd who stops them both. It's not really the best spot in the house to declare himself again, unusual and only due to the emotion of the day, he's certain, but he wants Grace to know, wants her to burn it into her heart and her mind, and never to forget it.

She stops, on the first step, now level with him in height.

"Grace, I do...."

"I know, Peter," she replies with a smile that is centuries wise. "I do love you, too. Even if that shocks you."

"A little," he admits.

She laughs lightly, then pulls him forward again.

"What's the rush?" Boyd asks, already anticipating the reply.

He's not disappointed.

"We've finally got a room to ourselves."


End file.
